To Build a Home
by Tzadikim
Summary: /This is a place where I feel at home…/Home comes in many forms for Harry.


**AN: This is an early fic for Harry's birthday. **

**So, happy birthday! Chances are that I'm at camp again, when I post this. Or I'll do it before I go, which is now. **

**Disclaimer**: Last time I checked I am an American, sarcastic, and fun-sized. Nice try, but I know that I'm not JK Rowling. Song is own by Cinematic Orchestra

**Title**: To Build a Home

**Word Count: **1K

**Summary**: _This is a place where I feel at home…_Home comes in many forms for Harry.

* * *

_There is a house built out of stone_

_Wooden floors, walls and window sills…_

_Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust…_

_This is a place where I don't feel alone_

_This is a place where I feel at home…_

* * *

"So, does it feel like Hogwarts?" Harry asked. He and Ginny were sitting by the lake, their feet dangling in the water. He'd come up as a surprise visit and later joined her for a walk on the grounds.

Ginny rested her head on his shoulder, thinking. Harry absentmindedly played with a few strands of her long, fiery hair. "It doesn't," said Ginny after a while. "It may look like it on the outside, but on the inside…" she shuddered. "It reminds me when I started my second year. I couldn't even go down the hallway that was near the girl's bathroom unless I had someone with me."

Harry thought about the areas inside that were ravaged by war and dark memories. Were there any hallways or even classes left for anyone to walk through? He reached for her hand and squeezed it. "How do you even go to class?"

"We all manage somehow," she said, but in a more diminutive manner. Ginny looked back at him, her eyes vaguely misty. "How are things, Harry?"

* * *

_Cause, I built a home_

_for you_

_for me_

_Until it disappeared_

_from me_

_from you_

* * *

Harry stared forlornly at his old, childhood home. The house at Godric's Hollow looked as eerie and lonely as it been in the winter. He shook his head sadly at the broken windows and rotting wood. Then Harry's eyes moved to the large, exposing hole on the roof. Already, his mind started to wander and wonder about the events that happened there, and what could had been…But dwelling on what could had been wouldn be right, he had to focus on the now.

Harry pushed the stubborn gate open and held out his wand. The foliage had gotten insane in the garden in the back. Everywhere there were ivy vines, lengthy grass, and overjoyed wildflowers and weeds. He momentarily thought how Molly Weasley would tackle this.

He followed the path that took a while to find, and saw that there was a back door for the house. The wood was warped inwards, and the doorknob covered in grime. Harry levelled his wand at it, and murmured a quick charm. The lock clicked, and the door opened with a chorus of creaks and moans.

And Harry entered the house that was filled with what if's, forgotten memories, and maybe a hidden secret or two…

* * *

_And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust…_

* * *

"It's lovely, dear," Mrs Weasley said to him. She looked over his small apartment, her arms filled with a large basket of his favourite food. All of Harry's friends had come over the other day to clean out the flat, and to make it fit for living. It wasn't easy with the boggart under his bed, but they got it done.

The walls were a rich shade of red and with white trimming. The furniture was a mix set of what caught Harry's eye and brought good memories back. In fact, it was now mentioned several times that his living room was reminiscent of the Gryffindor Common Room.

Harry took the basket from her hands and put it on the living room table. "Thanks, Mrs Weasley. It means a lot coming from you."

"You are all growing up so fast. I sometimes wish…" She looked sadly at the mantle on the fireplace. Perhaps she was imagining what pictures could appear in the future, of what good things may come to all of them.

"Molly," Harry spoke in an attempt to break her out of her stupor.

"Oh," she blinked and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. "So sorry, I…" Mrs Weasley looked through the basket she brought and retrieved a wrapped parcel. She handed it to Harry. "I think you would like something personal for your new place."

Harry carefully opened it to find several pictures of his younger self. There were pictures of him and Ron wearing their Christmas jumpers, them and Hermione relaxing in the living room at the Burrow, him and Ginny waving…Harry too started to blink some tears away. "Thank you," he said hoarsely. "Thank you, so much."

* * *

_Out in the garden where we planted the seeds_

_There is a tree as old as me_

_Branches were sewn by the color of green_

_Ground had arose and passed it's knees_

* * *

Ron levitated some goblets in the air, making them spin so fast that the family crests on them were only a blur. "What should I do with these, mate?"

Harry looked up at the scene. He was looking over some of the contents in the warded boxes to see if there was anything dangerous. So far it was mostly useless junk with faded jinxes on them. "Oh, uh, do whatever you want."

Ron looked at them almost fondly. "I think George may want these melted down for some new product…"

Harry could only imagine how the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black would think of their precious antiques being used for jokes. He laughed out loud. "That's perfect!"

Ron grinned and made them vanish for a moment. "Remind me again why you won't be living here? It's a nice place if you look past the creepiness. Big enough, too."

Harry readjusted the glasses on his nose. He shook his head to banish the images of brooding Sirius wandering the halls. "It's haunted here. Evil. Not enough laughter and little kids can make this place liveable. Too many had gone mad, and I prefer being somewhat sane."

"Sane? You?" Ron's lips twitched. "When are any of us sane? We escaped on a dragon, for Merlin's sake! The last thing we bloody three are is sane. Or if you want Hermione's version, lacking in common sense."

* * *

_By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top_

_I climbed the tree to see the world_

_When the gusts came around to blow me down_

_I held on as tightly as you held onto me_

_I held on as tightly as you held onto me..._

* * *

"You need a bigger bookshelf."

_"Hermione."_

"Now, Harry," she placed her hands on her hips. Harry was suddenly reminded of Mrs Weasley. "I know that you're not the biggest fan of reading, but it wouldn't hurt to expand your taste in literature. The only thing you read is what Ron reads, and it has to be those badly-written, muggle spy novels."

Harry waved his wand to open the windows in the living room. A soft breeze entered, making the curtains fly. "Whatever you say, Hermione. But it's good, mindless entertainment."

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, the two of you. Now I was thinking of mahogany because of the red walls…"

* * *

_Cause, I built a home_

_for you_

_for me_

* * *

Ginny stirred in her sleep. She rocked to the right and left, unable to find some peace in her dreams. It woke Harry up as Ginny unintentionally almost pushed him off the bed. _Two more months, _he thought. _Two more months until the baby will be here. Two more months until we have to get the room ready. _He felt a twinge of guilt for not getting the room ready by now. It was only a matter of time, and they were still busy with getting everything else together.

Harry laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her from almost pushing him off the bed again. She responded to his touch and automatically curled into his side. Harry smiled and buried his nose in her hair, stoking some strands with a hand.

He lowered his hand to the growing swell of her stomach, imagining what their child was going to look like. He hoped that he-she would get Ginny's smile and her freckles. "Hey, there," he murmured. "Maybe you can settle down just for your mum? She and I need some sleep, kiddo."

"Please," Ginny moaned sleepily in agreement. "Mummy loves sleeping. Mummy wants to sleep badly."

"How is he-she?" Harry asked. They decided to keep the gender of their baby a secret, but because of that they still couldn't decide on a name. So they settled for he-she and him-her for the moment.

"Squirmy," Ginny made a face. "And giving me heartburn."

"The joys of parenthood," Harry said dryly. He pulled on the afghan that Molly made for them. "Care to try sleeping again?"

She went for his hand and ran her thumb over his scars. "I like the sound of that. Sleeping, meh, I can't seem to get enough of it." Ginny resumed her curling into his side, her nose cold against his neck. Harry smiled and draped a hand over her stomach. Just for a second, he thought he felt something fluttering under his touch.

_Two more months, kiddo_, he thought again, _and everybody will be home._

* * *

_Until it disappeared_

_from me_

_from you_

* * *

They had brunch outside. The Weasley family grew in numbers after the war thanks to weddings, births, and making close friends. Soon it became a tradition that every Sunday they would all meet up for brunch at the Burrow.

Harry tried to get James to eat his baby food, but he was too fascinated with watching everyone else eating. "See?" Harry hovered the spoon near his own mouth. "Even Daddy likes—Gak!" James laughed as he pushed the spoon in Harry's mouth, forcing him to swallow the horrible concoction. He repressed a gag at the horrible pear-like taste.

"James, it's Daddy that's suppose to feed you," Ginny appeared next to Harry, her arm draped over his shoulder. "Enjoying the food?"

Harry wiped his mouth with his sleeve, coughing. "That stuff is horrible! No wonder he doesn't want to eat it."

Ginny kissed him and recoiled in disgust. "Oh, Merlin! That is horrible."

James made another laugh, his brown eyes gleaming with happiness. Both of his parents gave him a look. "Definitely part Weasley," Harry said. "He likes to laugh at our pain too much."

"George!" Ginny shouted at the crowd of hungry people. "I blame you!"

"What was that? I can't hear you, Gin!"

A loud chorus of groans followed that.

Harry shook his head; he lifted his son out of his seat and held him close. "See, James? Our family is mad, but you'll learn to love them." He sat down with James in his lap, joining his family for another lovely brunch. It was indescribable to word how happy he felt at times like this, surrounded by family and loved ones._ This is home_, he thought. _These people are my home._

It's been almost five years since the war, and all was well.

* * *

_And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust_


End file.
